


Real Softie

by prettybirdy979



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Enemies, Friendship, Gen, No Details, Vague Spoilers, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 22:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6301975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettybirdy979/pseuds/prettybirdy979
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red's a damned menace and overly moral pain in the ass but when he comes to offer Frank a hand getting out of his current situation, well he's probably got information Frank doesn't.</p><p>Helps he's a half decent fighter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Real Softie

**Author's Note:**

> Because as screwed up as it is, I kinda like Frank and Matt's dynamic and totally ship them as friends. Friends who hate each other's methods but friends.
> 
> This is half an exercise in writing description, half an exercise in writing Frank and all an exercise in dealing with my feelings for this pair. 
> 
> As the tags say, vague spoilers for the entire season but nothing explicit.

‘Need a hand?’

Frank grits his teeth with the flash of frustration and anger that races through his body when Daredevil - Red; Daredevil is a ridiculous name, even dumber than ‘The Punisher’ - speaks, his voice coming from behind Frank. There’s a note of amusement in his voice, but it’s nearly buried under the anger.

Red doesn’t much like it when Frank kills in his city. Like these pieces of filth deserve anything less than extermination.

Course, this extermination isn’t quite going Frank’s way, but he’s fought worse odds and come out on top. He’s doing fine.

‘Clear out Red.’ He doesn’t bother to raise his voice, aware Red’ll hear it anyway. He ducks under a punch, delivers his own to the man and lift his gun to shoot him. ‘I got it covered.’

As if on cue, Red’s damned stick whacks into his hand, knocking the gun from it before snapping back to Red's hand. ‘Can’t let you do that Frank.’

‘Then clear out and you won’t have to watch,’ Frank snarls back, ducking a second punch he would never have had to face if Red would let him do his damned job. ‘I ain’t holding you here.’

Red throws his stick again, whacking the asshole gangster on the head. The man goes down, allowing Frank to turn to face Red, who's just taken down the last of Frank's opponents with the rebounding stick. He’s standing on the bottom step, head cocked in that way he does, with a quirk to his lips that undermines the anger and annoyance in his voice. ‘I would, but I really can’t leave you here.’

‘You ain’t going to stop me,’ Frank says, confidence in his voice. For all Red’s righteous anger, they both know the only real way to stop Frank is to kill him; prison wouldn’t hold him and besides Red’s worked to keep him out of it before. And Red’s never going to do that, never going to take the final step to make him the monster Frank sometimes thinks he is. His morals, annoying as they are, are just too strong.

The quirked lips turn into a smirk, just for a flash of a second, as he shrugs. ‘Maybe. But tonight I’m not here to stop you. Just wondering if you need a hand.’

Frank pauses, his hand hovering over the gun he’s going to pick up. ‘Why do you think I need a hand?’

The smile’s slips off Red’s face. ‘Your friend there has backup coming. Rest of his gang and part of another got word the Punisher,’ he makes the word ‘Punisher’ sound serious and scary but you really can’t expect much from someone who answers to ‘Daredevil’, ‘was after him and his buddies here.’ He gives the dozen bodies lying around the roof, his distaste for their deaths clear. ‘And they’re on their way. Formed a temporary truce and everything.’

‘I’ll be long gone,’ Frank says, aware Red wouldn’t be here if that was the case.

‘No you won’t. They’re only a few minutes behind me and well, we’ve been talking nearly that long. At least thirty men, maybe as many as fifty.’

Well damn. Frank wasn’t expecting to be facing as many people as Red’s seemingly sure are coming and he’s only got enough ammo for maybe half. He’d opted to pack light tonight; the police have been cracking down on his exterminations recently and he only just got away the last few times. It’s easier to disappear with less weapons. A choice that’s about to backfire spectacularly.

‘Why do you wanna help then? Why not let me at ‘em and wait for the police to sort out the remainders?’ Let me die, Frank thinks but does not say because they both know that while he’s good, there’s a chance he’s not up to facing what’s coming at him right now.

A hard look appears on Red’s face. ‘They’re going to wage a war to kill you right now, and there’s innocent people in the surrounding buildings. Besides, they’re just as likely to turn on each other afterwards and I’m not letting Hell’s Kitchen become the site of another gang related gun battle.’ He shifts and looks dow- lowers his head. ‘And I don’t want you dead Frank. Locked up, sure but not dead.’

Frank can’t help the smirk on his face. ‘You’re a real softie Red. Can you hear ‘em yet?’

Red goes still, his head tilted as he listens. ‘Just coming into the building now. I can get you out by the ro-’

‘Hell no. Come on then Red, let’s get to work.’ Red jolts at the words, as if Frank shocked him but then nods and smiles.

‘No killing,’ he warns.

‘Oh come on Red.’

‘Frank.’

With a roll of his eyes, Frank sighs. He knows Red’ll enforce the rule either way and the last thing he wants is the man fighting with him to be distracted. ‘Non-lethal force, fine. You better be worth it.’

‘I’ll try to be.’

*********

Okay, so keeping to non-lethal force is a lot harder than Frank thought it’d be. A tiny trickle of admiration for Red’s restraint runs through him as he puts a biker down for the third time. At least disarming them is laughingly easy; the floor is littered with guns and Red’s proactive about preventing anyone rearming themselves.

Including Frank, God damnit.

Not that he’s in too much danger really. Ducking a sloopy punch from a biker he’s dumped on the floor once already, all Frank can think is that he would’ve been able to handle this himself. Might’ve walked out with a bunch of injuries and definitely had a higher body count than he’s going to but he’d have walked out.

He’s half sure Red’s just here fighting to piss him off.

They’ve made their way out of the room they started in, not dumb enough to stage a fight at the bottom of a stairwell. Moving through the apartment building is their best bet, and from the way Red’s leading them up Frank is sure they’re going to make a daring rooftop escape or some shit like that. Their opponents seem to have realised where they’re headed as even the stairwells are full of bikers.

Course that sometimes works to their advantage.

Like right now. Leading the way, Red pulls him into an abandoned apartment, its door half off its hinges, just moments before a round of bullets destroy the wall near where he’d been standing. Before Frank can react, he peaks out and is throwing that stick of his. Clanging comes from the other end of the hallway and Frank looks around his doorway to see a pissed off biker, his gun on the floor beside him, as the whizzing noise of Red’s stick returning fills the air.

The sight of him in the doorway leads to this dumbass biker charging and Frank’s treasuring the look of surprise on his face when he fail to connect. It’s satisfying to put a fist into his face and feel his bones crunch. Frank barely cares about the blood dripping from his hands, it ain’t his so it don’t matter. Red gets a blow in too, one that knocks the man down and keeps him down.

‘How many more?’ Frank asks, the note of delight in his voice not entirely unwarranted.

Red smiles. ‘Not too many. None between us and the roof and the police are minutes out.’

‘Planning on leaving me tied up there for ‘em?’

The smile slips off Red’s face and he looks conflicted. ‘Ah-’

A banging door behind them cuts into the chatter. Frank turns and runs for the stairwell, Red right on his heels. They’re barely behind the door when the guns start firing. Frank’s up the first set in record time, the pounding of his heart not enough to drown out the familiar sound of battering gunshots. Red…

Red isn’t quite so fast and while he manages to muffle most of it, Frank hears his cry as he’s hit. For a second he considers leaving Red there.

A second. At most. Maybe.

But of course he can’t do that. Despite everything, Red doesn’t deserve to die which is what will happen if Frank leaves him behind while anything more than minorly injured. So he thumps back down the stairs - glad the bullets have stopped - and grabs at Red, pulling him up as footsteps approach the door from the other side.

‘Come on Red, can’t leave a man down,’ he mutters.

Red huffs a laugh and uses Frank to get himself fully upright as they reach the top step of this flight. ‘Such a marine,’ he says and maybe there’s a teasing note in his voice. It’s buried in annoyance and anger in his voice - and maybe the tightness is pain too? - but there. Frank risks a quick look down, and yeah it looks like he was only winged. He’s probably had worse.

But probably had worse doesn’t mean that the injury now doesn’t hurt.

Still, Red pushes Frank’s support away and makes his way up the last two flights of stairs with only a minimal limp. The roof, to Frank’s surprise, is clear but he can hear the sirens Red’s been hearing with his ears. They’ve got maybe five minutes to get off the roof before the police will be locking it down.

‘Got a plan from here then Red?’ Frank moves away from his fighting partner. Vague surprise fills him when Red doesn’t follow. ‘Gonna try and chain me for the cops?’

‘Have I got much of a chance?’ Red says, weariness in his voice. ‘There’s a dozen bikers heading up these stairs. Two minutes from now the street below will be full of cops but they’re not going to have this roof cleared in the time it would take those men to kill you.’

‘You say that like I’d let them.’

Red laughs and moves to the door, using his stick to jam it shut. ‘Five minutes Frank. That’s all I’m giving you.’ Frank blinks in confusion. ‘Start running and I’ll be after you in five minutes.’

‘You’ll take that long to deal with those assholes? Even with your fancy morals, that sounds like a bad showing for you.’

‘Well,’ Red says with a shrug, ‘gotta be somewhat fair. Four minutes, fifty seconds.’

Five minutes will see Frank well out of Red’s earshot and he knows this place well enough to stay hidden. Five minutes is basically letting Frank escape. ‘What's it for this time then?’

‘You kept your word,’ Red says as people start to pound on the door. ‘And…’ he cuts himself off but jerks his leg and Frank gets it.

‘I’ll say it again; you’d have made one hell of a Marine.’

That gets another laugh out of Red. ‘We both know they’d never have taken me, even if I tried.’

Yeah, blindness is kinda frowned upon in the Marines. ‘Their loss.’

Before Red can reply Frank’s gone, making the small jump onto the next roof with ease. As he runs to the next one, he hears the door bang open and the sound of Red’s fists meeting flesh. It’s a familiar sound. An almost... comforting sound. Means Red's still alive and kicking.

God damnit, it’s annoying being anything near fond of a goody two shoes like that.


End file.
